Secret Greenhouse Tryst
by Ginny Rigby
Summary: Don't know what overcame me when writing this one. It is wholly disturbing to say the least. R


"I can't believe I'm actually here. Father won't like this..."Draco Malfoy sneered at Professor Sprout, walking into Greenhouse #1 for his detention. It was absurd that he was there, anyway. He hadn't done anything wrong. It was the fault of those stupid floating lilies, if they hadn't tried to touch his hand, he never would have had to tear them apart.  
  
"Believe me, Mr. Malfoy, you're not the only one who would rather not be here. Now, where is she, she's late..." Professor Sprout tapped her arm with her wand and tapped her toe on the glass floor.  
  
"Excuse me, who is late? How dare they keep me waiting, whoever they are? Oh, and you are to call me Master, not Mister. I'll have to tell my father about this." Malfoy scoffed.  
  
"Sorry I'm late, Professor! There was a problem with a story my father is writing, and he was talking to me about it. I'm sorry. The story was about Stubby..." Luna Lovegood gasped as she ran to the greenhouse and tripped accidentally on the way in.  
  
"Are you to tell me that I am to have detention with this commoner, Professor Sprout? Tell me this is a joke and that I am to go back to the Slytherin common room, because I don't believe this."  
  
"It is no joke, Mr. Malfoy. You are to have detention with Miss Lovegood here. You are to clean off the tables in here, and then sit down and write me an essay as to why you think you are better than everyone else, Mr. Malfoy. You, Miss Lovegood, will write me an essay as to why you think it is appropriate to read The Quibbler in my class instead of listening to lecture. Now get started, and I will be back in ninety minutes. The essay is to be three feet in length." With that, Professor Sprout turned and walked away.  
  
"My name is Luna. Nice to meet you. What is yours?" Luna questioned Malfoy.  
  
"It is none of your concern. Now, clean up this mess, so I can write my essay," Malfoy sputtered. He walked over to Professor Sprout's desk, picked up a goblet with a sweet smelling liquid inside (it smelled like the lilies Malfoy had destroyed), took a drink, and then, shockingly enough, his appearance began to change. "What is going on?!?!?" he cried pitifully.  
  
"Oh, Harry Potter, what are you doing here?" Luna gasped as she turned in Malfoy's direction from wiping down the tables. "What happened to that wretched Draco Malfoy?"  
  
"He left because he got his essay finished," Malfoy as Harry stated. He might as well have a little fun with the situation, shouldn't he? Besides, this Luna chick was starting to look better and better to him...  
  
"Oh, okay. Well, I have to go and write my essay. Excuse me."  
  
"No, wait, Luna! Come back here. I need to talk to you about something," Malfoy in disguise drunkenly stated. "This is really important you know..."  
  
"What is it then, Harry?"  
  
Before another word was spoken, Malfoy grabbed Luna and pulled her into a deep kiss. She wasn't a bad kisser, either, Malfoy thought. Slowly, he moved his hands upwards, moving to touch her where he was sure no one had ever touched her before...  
  
"Oh, Harry!" Luna cried, before Malfoy's lips found their place upon hers again. "Touch me again! No, right there!"  
  
Unaccustomed to being told what to do, Malfoy pulled away from her and said, "I'd like to see you make me do it." Luna took him up on his offer and they were both quickly becoming lost in the raptures of passion. The effects of the Polyjuice Potion were slowly wearing off Malfoy, but Luna was so lost in what Malfoy was doing to her that she didn't notice. They were rolling around on the floor, bumping into the tables and walls when suddenly the door opened.  
  
"What is going on in here? Luna?" the shrouded figure in the doorway cried out at the sight of Malfoy on the floor in a sexy embrace with The Quibbler reading Ravenclaw. Luna pulled herself away from Malfoy and looked up into the face of the one and only Harry Potter, while Malfoy lay on the ground, a triumphant smirk on his face. 


End file.
